Last summer, Natalie and I began watching a great kid's show, Little Einsteins. Because Disney controls our brains, we were immediately hooked on these four little kids who excelled in the arts, and went on musical missions to save things that were going awry in famous art pieces. Being the liberal arts minded people we are, we thought this show is great. Classical music and classical artwork that I child is interested in, one more reason she is special.
June, a character from the show is a the dancer. (Annie the singer, Quincy the musician, and Leo the conductor.) Shortly thereafter, Natalie began dancing, twirling, and leaping all throughout the house. The time had come, a fact of a girl's life that I was honestly hoping we would skip, it was time to try dancing classes.
In a moment of craziness, I decided that Saturday at 9:15 was the perfect time to take such class. We're up, what's the big deal? Let me tell you, IF we do it again, it will not be on a Saturday morning.
Regardless, each Saturday we would rush to eat breakfast, tights, leotard, hair up, and out the door to meet up with the ten other three year olds in her class. I remember the first class very clearly. There was my little girl, who would leap and twirl around our house any time she heard music or not, with absolutely no rhythm whatsoever. I had thought, much like everything else that she does, dancing would come as an immediate talent. Not so much. But as the weeks went on, she would come home and not just leap and twirl, but passe and grande chatay (sp?). So, in the end, she was learning something.
June FINALLY arrived for the big recital, which around April was the only pull that was keeping her interest. "I don't want to go to dance class," she would whine. To which I would reply, "But you want to wear your costume in the big recital, right?" Smile, "Yeah, let's go!"
The dress rehearsal was the Thursday before the show and our now little four year olds were taken out of the comfort of the studio and placed on a new stage and expected to perform their tap and ballet routines. It was rough to watch to say the least. I tried to forewarn Dan that is was adorably awful.
However, as with everything that Natalie does, recital day came, costume and make-up on, hair in a bun, and our little dancer took to the stage, and turned it on, performing the routines as perfectly as any four year old could be expected.